A Time for Mercy (Jake Brigance #3) - John Grisham Page 0,129

in the vestibule by an usher, a woman who greeted them warmly and gave each a bulletin for the service. Inside the handsome sanctuary, the pianist was playing as they found a seat in a padded pew halfway to the front. Charles McGarry quickly spotted them and walked over with a warm hello. Meg was at home with the baby, who had a cold but was otherwise doing fine. He thanked them for coming and was genuinely happy to see them.

As city folks, they immediately felt overdressed, but no one seemed to care. Jake noticed only one other dark suit among the pews. He couldn’t help but notice the stares. Word was out—Mr. Brigance was in the house—and others began stopping by for friendly welcomes.

At eleven, a small choir in blue robes filed in from a side door and Pastor McGarry stepped to the pulpit for his opening announcements. He offered a short prayer, then yielded to the choir director who asked them to stand. After three stanzas they sat and listened to a solo.

When the sermon began, Hanna moved to a cozier spot between her parents and seemed ready for a nap, determined to prove she could sleep through any service. For a preacher so young and without a lot of training, Charles was at home in the pulpit. His sermon came from Paul’s letter to Philemon and his theme was forgiveness. Our ability to forgive others, even those who are undeserving, is indicative of the forgiveness we received from God through Christ.

Jake enjoyed sermons and all other types of speeches. He invariably timed them. Lucien had taught him that anything beyond twenty minutes, especially final summations to juries, and you risked losing your audience. In Jake’s first jury trial, an armed robbery, his closing argument lasted all of eleven minutes. And it had worked. His minister at the Presbyterian Church, like most preachers, tended to run long, and Jake had suffered through too many sermons that ran out of gas and became boring.

Charles was finished in eighteen minutes and closed nicely. When he sat down, a children’s choir lit up the place with a lively song. Hanna perked up and enjoyed the music. Then Charles was back as he asked the worshippers to share their joys and concerns.

It was definitely a different type of service, far less stuffy, much warmer, and with a lot more humor. After the benediction, Jake and Carla were surrounded by the members, who wanted to make sure they felt sufficiently welcomed.

31

In what felt like a never-ending string of bad days, Monday promised to be one of the worst. Unable to concentrate, Jake watched the clock until 9:55, then left his office for a quick stroll to the other side of the square.

There were three banks in Clanton. Stan, at Security, had already said no. The Sullivans ran not only the largest law firm in the county, but some cousins held a majority interest in the biggest bank. Jake would not subject himself to the indignity of asking them for money. They would say no anyway, and gleefully. He walked past their law firm and cursed them, then cursed them again as he walked past their bank.

The third, Peoples Trust, was run by Herb Cutler, a chubby old curmudgeon Jake had always avoided. He wasn’t a bad guy, just a tightfisted banker who demanded more than enough collateral for any loan. The nerve. To get money from Herb, one had to show enough collateral to prove that one didn’t really need a loan to begin with.

Jake entered the lobby as if someone was holding a gun to his head. The receptionist pointed to a corner and he entered a huge, messy office at exactly ten o’clock. Herb, in his standard bright red suspenders, was waiting behind his desk and did not stand up. They shook hands and went through the usual preliminaries, though Herb didn’t waste many words and was known for his bluntness.

He was already shaking his head as he got down to business. “Jake, I just don’t know about the loan, this idea of refinancing your mortgage. This appraisal seems awfully high, I mean, three hundred thousand? I know you paid two-fifty for the place two years ago, but it looks to me like Willie Trainer clipped you on it.”

“Naw, Herb, I got a good deal. Plus, my wife really wanted the place. I can handle a new mortgage.”

“Really? Three hundred thousand for thirty years at ten percent? That’s a